The Warden and the Queen
by Brave November
Summary: A short discussion between Ferelden's queen and its hero. Not exactly happy, but not full of angst, either.


Note: This supposes a female city elf Warden in a romance with Alistair spared Loghain and persuaded Alistair to marry Anora during the Landsmeet, and that Loghain died defeating the Archdemon. I wrote this a long while ago and found it on a laptop only recently returned to my by my sister. There didn't seem to be any reason _not_ to put it up.

* * *

"She's adorable," Kallian said, hovering almost reverentially over the cradle. "What's her name?"

"Moira," said Isolde, hushed pride in her voice. "Moira Cauthrien Therin."

"Moira Cauthrien Therin," the Warden repeated, testing the sounds. "I like it." Anora beamed as the woman she once considered her rival stretched out a hand and pressed her finger to the infant's nose. "Hello, Moira Cauthrien Therin." Unimpressed, the baby looked briefly at her with unfocused blue eyes, then turned her head and yawned. Kallian chuckled. "Little princess of Ferelden."

As she stepped back from the cradle, Anora thought she saw a trace of sorrow in the Warden's smile. On impulse, she took Kallian's arm. "This must be hard for you," she said quietly. "I know that Grey Wardens seldom bear children." Unspoken was her thought that this child, born of herself and Kallian's old lover, must doubly hard to see.

"I accepted that I would bear no children soon after the Joining," Kallian answered. "I have nieces and nephews I care for. Besides, I would make a poor mother, always clad in armor and leading charges and quests. It's just not my path."

They had known each other long enough as both adversaries and allies for the queen to hear the sincerity in her words. Stroking her daughter's wispy blond hair, she marveled once again at the beauty of her child. Though she still had the pudgy, unformed features of the very young, she thought she could see traits from both her parents that would soon emerge: Alistair's stubborn chin, and her own sharp cheekbones and large eyes.

"I hope she will keep the blue eyes," she confessed. "I would like to pick out dresses in matching shades of blue for her." She thought of the days to come-deliberately skipping over tiring tasks of teething, nursing, and toilet-training, which could be foisted off to the servants-when she could brush her daughter's growing hair and read her stories and teach her children's games. "I will have to try hard not to cosset her too much."

"You'll manage," said Kallian. "What about Alistair?"

Anora frowned to cover an indulgent smile. "He dotes on her as much as I do. They babble nonsense back and forth, and I swear he would carry her everywhere if I let him. He loves her dearly."

"He will be a good father." Kallian smiled again. "I am glad for you both."

"And I. . .I must thank you, Warden. You could have made things much more difficult for me. Indeed, I half-expected you to. But you have been. . .gracious." She walked towards the wide window, drawing the other woman with her. The light caught in Kallian's red hair, cut short at the neck but already starting to straggle down to her shoulders in determined strands. The Warden was still beautiful, despite a life of constant travel and trouble. Her face was marked with small scars, and her hands were rough and hard, but she carried herself with the upright bearing that could belong to a soldier or a noblewoman, and her hazel eyes still shone intently. All the traces of girlhood had vanished from her in the last few years. She looked too old for her youth: a wise woman in the guise of a maiden. For once she was not in armor, and though the green gown she wore was several years out of style, she wore it well enough for Anora to predict a sudden resurgence of old fashions.

"I loved Alistair," said Kallian. "I still do. But my love has changed, as we have changed. And I cannot regret it." She cast a glance back at the cradle, where Moira was already being fussed over by the ever-attentive Erlina. "Sometimes I miss those days, but I don't long for them anymore. You've given him so much I never could have. Your marriage may have been an expedient gesture to begin with, Anora, but I don't believe it is any more."

"No," Anora admitted. "I believe he loves me, in a way."

"And you love him." It was not a question, and Anora gave no answer.

"Do you know," she said instead, "that during the first year of our reign, every ambitious woman and girl of the nobility paraded themselves before him in hopes of displacing me? Some of them went so far as to put pointed tips on their ears and adopt elven styles. A few even painted their faces like the Dalish. It was quite amusing." She smiled thinly. "Alistair seemed oblivious to their intentions. He said it was delightful that so many young women were taking an interest in elven culture, and set them to work running charities for displaced elves, or making improvements to the alienages. It wasn't until months afterwards that I realized he'd only played the fool, and knew what they were doing the whole time."

Kallian laughed. "That sounds like something Alistair would do."

"I believe a few of them even became genuine reformers," Anora continued. "Arl Rand's third daughter eloped with an elvish minstrel from one of the seedier taverns. It was an enormous scandal, but I hear they're doing well enough in Orlais." She sat down at a small table beside the window, gesturing for the other woman to join her. A small pot of tea, steeped to just the right flavor, sat waiting. "Not long afterward, a delegation of merchants and some of the lesser arls approached him with a petition to set me aside in favor of a concubine. It was all very well for me to rule with him, they said, but a barren queen made the people nervous."

"When was this?" Kallian asked, frowning.

"You were at Weisshaupt, I think," Anora remembered, pouring them both cups of tea. "That insufferable Orlesian substitute was here. . .what was his name? Denral? Dernal?"

"Deneral." Kallian glowered at the memory. "That idiot nearly threw my men into revolt. And I nearly threw him from the Vigil's highest wall once I saw what he'd done." She stirred her tea so forcefully that the spoon clattered loudly against the porcelain, earning her a reproving look from Erlina. Anora caught her maid's eyes and motioned to the door. With a nod, the elven woman retreated, leaving the two most powerful women in Ferelden to sip their tea in privacy.

"Yes, well, at least he wasn't part of this mess. Alistair exploded at these men. I hadn't seen him so angry since the Landsmeet. He told them that with a Grey Warden as a king they'd be lucky to get an heir out of _him_, and that their 'solution' was better offered to me. They were so afraid that they actually did." Kallian's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Anora bent over her teacup to hide her own mirth. "I declined, of course. And then he told them that it was none of their damn business and threw them out. I think that was when I began to see him as something more than a reluctant ally." She did not tell Kallian that that was the first night she had kissed Alistair, and invited him into her chambers. She kept those memories of shyness and sweetness and nervous laughter to herself. It could only hurt the elf. . .and besides, it was _hers_.

"He's a good man," Kallian said. "I'm glad for you both, Anora, truly. You are the rulers Ferelden needs."

"And you are its hero. Tell me, how does your life go? Have you found anyone you particularly care for?"

Kallian smiled bitterly. "Deneral drove off my last and only lover. Forced the poor man to give up his cat. He took a ship to the Free Marches, and I haven't seen or heard from him since. Since then I haven't had the time or the inclination to bother. And I'm not going to make the mistake of taking up with someone under my command ever again." She winced. "Demons themselves could not have devised more perfect torments than my men did."

"Oh?"

"Insolence," growled Kallian. "Catcalls, pranks, false love-letters. . .I had half of my recruits running the steps of Vigil's Keep till noon almost every day for two straight months. Worst of all was Ohgren." She shuddered. "The ringleader."

"I cannot imagine," said Anora. Of all of her husband's old companions, she thought the dwarf the most repulsive. _Even the oily assassin and the insolent witch were preferable to his drunken leering._

"Lucky you," Kallian said darkly. "It was harmless fun, but it got to the point where I had to stop treating them as friends and begin disciplining them as Wardens. Fraternity is all very well and good. . .but there is a line, and they crossed it." She looked a bit sad, though.

"So your life is lonely," Anora inferred, swirling her tea delicately in her cup. "I am sorry."

Kallian shrugged. "It is necessary," she said philosophically.

"Perhaps not," said Anora. Kallian looked up at her in alarm.

"You haven't been talking to my father, have you? Or Shianni? She's worse than he is these days. . ."

"I am not attempting to play matchmaker," Anora explained. "I know you still love my husband. I know that he still cares for you. My role is done. I have my child and Ferelden's heir. If you and he were to. . .to. . ."

Kallian stared at her slack-jawed befuddlement. Then she blinked, shut her mouth, and took a sip of tea. "Are you suggesting," she said carefully, "that we _share_ him?"

"I am not opposed to the idea," Anora said calmly. "I admit that if he were to throw me over entirely I would be quite. . .disappointed, but I cannot make any real objection to the two of you resuming your relationship."

"This is insane!" The elven woman was aghast. "Is this what nobility does? Calmly discuss adultery over tea?"

"I am not noble by birth, but. . .yes, I believe it is." Anora smiled sweetly. "Would you have preferred a letter?"

Kallian pushed away from the table. "No. I can't do this. You two have your own lives now, and I have mine. I won't mess this up." She turned to leave.

"Kallian!" Anora protested. "Don't act like this! For all you know, this is better for all of us."

Kallian shook her head. "I can't do it," she said fiercely. "It took me so long to pull away from him. . .to stop listening for his laugh, to not turn around and look for him at my shoulder. To get used to sleeping alone." Her fists clenched. "We both suffered, but we got past it. We can't go back to what we had. It would be foolish to even try."

"Even though he loves you?"

"But he loves you, too!" Kallian wheeled around. "I will not do this to him! Not even if you agree to it. . .not even if you promote it!" She glared at the queen. Anora met her eyes with icy calmness.

"Doesn't Alistair deserve the chance to make that choice?" she asked softly.

Kallian sagged. Closing her eyes, she turned away. "He already made it," she said quietly. "All that we can share is the death of our Calling. That is promised to me. But his life-" she gestured to the cradle where the child slept, "this belongs to you." She bowed. "You have a beautiful daughter. Goodbye, Anora."

Alone, the queen of Ferelden bent over her daughter's cradle. A triumphant smile curved her lips. "I mean her no harm," she told the baby, allowing her to catch a finger in her tiny fist. "I had to be sure. I only want what's best for us, darling." She let Moira gum her for a few moments, then patiently extracted her hand. "Your father is ours, my princess. I will be no Mairyn."

* * *

Note: Mairyn is a figure in the Ferelden legend of King Calenhad. According to the Codex, she was Calenhad's wife when his companion, Lady Shayna, seduced him with a magical potion. This led to all sorts of trouble: both Shayna and Mairyn's father ended up dead, and Calenhad abdicated in favor of his unborn child. Originally, I'd intended to write a companion piece in which Anora and Kallian discussed this legend before the Landsmeet, and both of them admitted that they preferred Shayna to Mairyn as children. I just never got around to it.

The trip to Weisshaupt, the Orlesian Warden Denarel, and a liaison with Anders are part of a very fuzzy speculation of what that particular PC's life might have been like after the Blight. I've never had any plans to write about it, but it's something to amuse myself with during night shifts.

I, myself, don't like children much or consider them particularly adorable, but my Warden does. I hope I gave a good impression of that.

Hope I haven't made too many errors. I'm _pretty_ sure Anora's eyes are brown. . . **Edit: Apparently not. Fixed. Thank you, reviewer Mike! Also fixed-spelling of Orlais, thanks to Cailus Griffin for catching that.**

Thanks if you read this far!


End file.
